


A Blueprint of the Pleasure in Me

by Molias



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Estim, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Piercings, USB Blasting, wireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 23:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molias/pseuds/Molias
Summary: Connor learns that Hank had his nipples pierced back in his 20s and isveryenthusiastic about the idea of him getting them pierced again. Hank is easy to convince.





	A Blueprint of the Pleasure in Me

Connor didn't notice the tiny scars, or at least didn't say anything about them, until he and Hank had already had sex a number of times. When he did bring them up, though, it took Hank a moment to remember what he was talking about, although to be fair Connor's attention was _very_ distracting. 

Connor had picked up on the fact that Hank's nipples were sensitive, although he hadn't quite figured out just _how_ sensitive they were and Hank hadn't spelled it out for him in detail; sometimes he felt a little self-conscious about it. Whether Connor knew it or not, it felt amazing when he covered Hank's chest with messy kisses. 

They were lazily making out in bed one evening when Connor's fingers went from gently pinching one nipple to curiously poking at it, and Hank raised his head from the pillow to try and see what he was doing. "Something confusing there, Connor?" 

"I see you have some scar tissue here that looks to be consistent with marks that are left when a piercing is removed; were your nipples pierced in the past?" 

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I got them done in, Jesus, back in '08 I guess? It was mostly on a dare but they felt great once they healed up, so I kept 'em." He hadn't thought about that time in his life for years, and it felt strange to look back on it, and on himself, from so far in the future. He was just a dumb kid then, willing to stumble half-drunk into a piercing parlor on a dare just because he was so sure he could make it through anything. Hank exhaled sharply. He'd made it, all right. Most days he was glad of it, now. 

"I had a bad knock to my chest at work that fucked one of them up, though, and I didn't like the look of just one, so I wound up taking them both out." He fingered his nipple thoughtfully; the scar tissue was barely visible and didn't feel any different, so it was easy to miss. "Mostly I forget I ever had them, to be honest." 

"Interesting," Connor said. His LED flickered rapidly, from yellow to blue, and Hank wondered if he was trying to imagine what the piercings had looked like or, hell, maybe what 23-year-old Hank had looked like. He barely remembered that himself, these days. He tried not to think about it too much; the difference between that Hank and Current Hank felt too depressing.

Happily, Connor returned his attention to kissing Hank's chest and pulling his boxers off, which served as enough of a distraction that he managed to avoid a spiral down the rabbit hole of worrying about how far he'd fallen from who he used to be. 

Connor'd had his moment of curiosity, but he didn't say anything else about the piercings after that, and Hank had half-forgotten the conversation by the end of the week.

In the heat of summer, on a Tuesday night weeks later, Connor and Hank were cuddling on the couch, half-watching an episode of some terrible space-sitcom that had come on after the Gears game. Connor had his hand draped over Hank's shoulder, and as they watched and Hank made fun of the goofy special effects, he slowly let his fingertips drift farther and farther down, so gradually that Hank didn't notice until Connor's fingers were finally circling and rubbing gently over his nipple. 

Hank inhaled sharply and shifted in his seat as his cock twitched. He could practically see the smugness radiating off of Connor for provoking that much of a response. 

"Whatcha doing there, sweetheart?" Hank asked quietly. Pet names for Connor still felt awkward and heavy in his mouth, but they also felt _good_ to say, so he kept trying. 

Connor turned to Hank, gazing up at him with those stupidly beautiful eyes of his, and asked, "Have you ever considered getting your nipples pierced again?'

Hank hadn't been expecting that to be what came out of Connor's mouth. He considered the question for a moment, then shook his head. "I never really thought about it, I guess. They were fun, but once I took them out I figured that was it." He narrowed his eyes at Connor. "Why?" 

Connor slid into Hank's lap, straddling his thighs and placing his hands over his chest, not quite putting pressure on his nipples but so close Hank felt the urge to press back against him, forcing that contact. He leaned in close, nosing aside Hank's hair to murmur into his ear. "I've had the idea of piercings on my mind since our conversation earlier." 

"You have?" Hank breathed, sounding a bit more needy than he intended. 

"I can't stop thinking about it," Connor said. "I did some research." 

Hank didn't have more than a moment to think about what kind of research Connor was talking about before he was staring at a video on Connor's hand-projected screen. It was a short clip of a man roughly Hank's age and build, but with considerably more tattoos and a black leather harness, having his chest worshipped by a shorter chubby man who was kissing and licking the thick rings in his nipples. Hank could see the title CUB SUCKS HOT BEAR'S PIERCED TITS scrolling along the bottom edge of the frame. 

"Uh." Hank said, unsure of how else to respond. The thought of Connor looking up bear porn to investigate piercings was both mildly hilarious and brain-meltingly hot. 

"It seems that many people find their nipples are more sensitive when they're pierced," Connor continued. He returned his hands to Hank's chest, still just a hair shy of making contact. "Did you notice increased sensitivity?" 

"I, uh." Hank had a sudden memory of the first time he tried to pinch his nipple while jerking off after the piercings had first healed, of how quickly he'd come and how his roommate had banged on his bedroom door because he'd made way more noise than was acceptable in a shitty, thin-walled apartment. "Y-yeah. They were pretty sensitive." 

"More so than they are now?" Connor asked, finally (finally!) closing the distance and gently rubbing his palms over Hank's chest. Hank could tell his nipples were hard, could feel the faint friction of Connor's artificial skin against them through his shirt. He shivered. 

"I guess? Hard to remember specifics, but. The piercings made them feel better, I know that much." It was especially hard to remember, or to think about anything of substance, at the moment. Maybe Connor _had_ figured out how sensitive he was without him saying anything about it.

"Would you be willing to have someone pierce them again?" Connor's voice was eager, but then he pulled back with a slightly pained expression on his face. "I don't—I don't want to push you into anything, but if it's something you're willing to consider, I'd appreciate it." 

"You're fine, Connor, you're not being pushy." Hank smoothed his hands up and down Connor's thighs where he'd settled over Hank's lap. "I don't know, though, is it silly to do it again at my age? I don't want to be some old weirdo lumbering into a shop full of hot young things and taking my shirt off." 

"Plenty of older men have and enjoy body piercings, Hank, it isn't unusual."

Hank thought of the HOT BEAR'S PIERCED TITS and how good he looked with them, how much he seemed to be enjoying the attention his partner was lavishing on his chest. Hm.

" _I_ certainly don't think it would be silly if you had them pierced again," Connor continued. "In fact, I find the thought intensely arousing."

"Do you now?"

Connor shifted, pressing Hank down into the couch and rucking up his shirt. He pinched one nipple, first gently and then aggressively, and Hank just barely failed to hold back a whine. "I know you're sensitive here, Hank. You like when I do this, correct?" 

Hank nodded. 

"And when I do this?" He leaned in and sucked messily at Hank's nipple, grazing his teeth over the sensitive flesh. 

"Yes," Hank breathed, "Yes, goddammit, I like it." 

Connor continued to pinch and roll one nipple between his fingers as he licked at the other one. "How much more would you like it if you were even more sensitive, if there was something inside you for me to bite down on? Do you think I could make you come just like this?" 

Connor didn't have any genital components installed at the moment, but he was rubbing his blank pubic mound against Hank's thigh, and Hank pressed up against him so Connor could get the friction he wanted. He wrapped his hand around the nape of Connor's neck, squeezing and stroking his hair and losing his fucking mind as Connor kissed and bit and murmured filthy things to him, all of which turned into a litany of _please, please, please_ as he chased his pleasure against Hank's thigh and his kisses grew messier. 

"Anything you want, baby," Hank said. "You want it that bad, let's fucking do it." 

 

North Star Tattoo & Piercing Studio was on the far side of town from Hank's house; he'd driven past at least two or three other shops on his way there, but none of them had as many glowing reviews online and Hank figured this was an area where he was willing to travel a bit farther for quality. "If I'm getting steel jammed into my tits," he'd said to Connor as they researched different piercing studios, "I am sure as hell not going with the cheapest option." 

Connor had offered to come along, but Hank opted to go on his own; he knew Connor was interested in the procedure but he figured he'd feel more on edge about the whole process if he had an audience watching. Connor had accepted this decision cheerfully, but Hank knew he'd be all over him when he got home, probably trying to rip his shirt off to take a look before he'd even closed the front door behind him.

Hank pushed open the door to the small studio warily. He remembered the last piercing place he'd been in as a cramped, loud space with the sort of bored employees who must have perfected their contemptuous gazes in front of a mirror to get them just right. This shop was airier and less cramped, at least, although the blaring music—some atonal muffcore from the late '20s, it sounded like—seemed to be universal. The short woman behind the counter smiled and nodded as Hank walked in the door, and she mercifully turned the volume down a hair as he approached. A black honeycomb-pattern tattoo peeked out from the collar and left arm of her shirt.

"Hi, I uh." Hank faltered a bit in the face of a young, attractive stranger who was about to hear all about his nipples. _I guess she wouldn't work here if she didn't want to hear this shit,_ he thought to himself. 

The woman seemed very used to dealing with hesitant clients. "What brings you in today? Our tattoo artist won't be in until later this afternoon, but if you're looking for jewelry or a piercing, I can help with that." 

"Piercing. Nipple piercing," Hank said, and winced at the gracelessness of it. "I, uh, had mine pierced ages ago, had to take the jewelry out, and wanted to get them done again, if you think you can do it a second time." 

"That shouldn't be a problem," she said brightly. "It can feel a bit more intense to re-pierce through existing scar tissue, plus it can be harder to get the piercing exactly straight with that tissue in the way, but it's very rare that we just can't do it. Let me get your paperwork going, then I'll take you back and we can have a look, ok?"

"Sure," Hank said. He fished out his license and initialed the form: no, he wasn't pregnant. No hemophilia in the family. Not currently under the influence of alcohol. Over 18. He snorted at that one. "You get a lot of guys my age in here? Or is it mostly kids coming in on their 18th birthday?" 

"It's a mix, I guess," she replied, as she glanced at his ID and filed the paperwork away. "It's not unusual for people your age to come in, though, if that's what you're wondering. Hell, I put a guiche on a guy in his 60s a few months back, he was great." 

Before Hank could remember what a guiche piercing _was_ , she called into the back, "Fran, can you watch the front while I do some nips?" and a muffled "yeah, sure" came a second later. Hank was mildly surprised to see a Chloe model android come out of the back; her hair was deep brown, and she had cut it short, but her face was unmistakable. Hank hadn't seen an RT600 up close since Connor refused to shoot one in the head nearly a year ago, and he had to will himself not to flinch or shy away from Fran as she walked by him. It wasn't this kid's fault her creator had been a sick fuck who liked to toy with people. 

"I'm Drea, by the way," the piercer said, as she led Hank into a small room behind the counter. 

"Hank," he replied. He fumbled with the hem of his shirt, feeling awkward, especially after seeing Fran. "Do you want me to take this off now?" 

"Sure," Drea replied, as she adjusted the exam table in the middle of the room, folding part of it up so that Hank could sit and lean back against it. "You can set your shirt on that table and then hop on up here and let me look at what we're working with." She laid out some forceps and packets of autoclaved needles and jewelry while Hank got settled, then pulled on a pair of gloves and approached Hank's chest. 

It was a little weird to have someone peering at his nipples this intently; yes, Connor stared at him intently all the time, sometimes during sex and sometimes just out of curiosity, but no one else was in the habit of it. He wasn't used to having any part of his body under so much scrutiny from a stranger. "Everything look ok?" he asked, mostly to have something to do. It felt weird to talk to someone who was examining his nipples, but weirder not to talk at all. 

Drea gently prodded at Hank's left nipple. "Looks fine to me, but I'm going to feel this scar tissue real quick, get ready for a bit of a pinch." She rolled the nipple in her fingers gently, feeling the texture of the scar tissue on either side, then nodded and stepped back. "I should be able to get you re-pierced, no problem," she said, "although if you're up for a larger gauge than before, it might make it easier. Do you remember what size jewelry you had?" 

Hank had no idea. "Christ, it was so long ago, I'm not sure...I just asked the guy for whatever the standard size was, I didn't really think it through and he didn't ask a lot of questions. Sorry." 

"No problem," Drea said, waving off Hank's apology. "Are yu up for ten gauge jewelry? I'll show you that, not the needle, people tend to be more comfortable that way." She picked up one of the sealed packages and showed Hank the barbell inside. It was a bit thicker than his old jewelry, he was pretty sure, but not unreasonably so. 

"Sure," he said, "you're the expert." He wasn't getting _nervous_ , exactly, but he could feel a tendril of anxious anticipation winding through his gut. It wasn't so much the pain, he thought, as it was knowing it was coming. "I just want to get this over with." 

"You'll be fine," Drea said. "I'm good at these, don't worry." 

"I'm not _worrying_ ," Hank grumbled, but there was no bite behind it. Maybe he was. A little. 

"Why'd you decide to re-pierce them now?" Drea asked. "By the way, I'm opening the needles now so if you don't want to see them, don't look over here." 

Hank resolutely kept his eyes forward. "My partner, actually. He found out I'd had the piercings in the past, and uh. He got real excited about the idea, and asked nicely, so here I am." 

Drea chuckled. "That's sweet of you." 

"I mean," Hank said quickly, "I guess I like the idea of having them again too, I just never really thought about it until he brought it up." 

"You realize," Drea said, as she made some marks on Hank's nipples and stepped back to examine the placement, "you'll need to make sure to keep your hands off of these piercings for at least a couple months, and that goes for your partner too. No touching, no mouth stuff, absolutely nothing rough." 

Hank felt his face grow hot, but made himself ask, "With the mouth stuff. Does it matter if he's an android? He's got some sort of..." he waved his hands at his face. "Self-sterilization thingy in there. No germs, at least that's what he says." 

"Hmm," Drea said. "That's a new one, I haven't been asked that before. You still can't bump or agitate them, so I'm going to say no, plus if he has some sort of saliva in there, I have no idea what it would be made of and if it would irritate a healing piercing or not. I'm gonna put the forceps on now, ok?"

Hank nodded weakly. He realized she'd done an excellent job of distracting him by asking questions while she set up.

Drea instructed him to breathe deeply, counted down from three, and then Hank felt a hot, sharp pain lance through his nipple. "Shit," he hissed, as he tried not to flinch. 

"You all right?" Drea asked, reaching for the second needle. At Hank's nod, she lined it up quickly. "Let's get this one done too, you'll feel better once the jewelry's in." 

Hank did indeed feel better once she'd inserted the barbells. He tried his best to pay attention to her explanation of aftercare, but truth be told he was glad to be handed a pamphlet with all the same information on his way out. He was a bit distracted by the throb of the piercings and the sensation of his shirt brushing against them; even that tiny bit of contact caused a small jolt of pain.

Putting on his seatbelt was a nightmare. 

 

By the time he arrived back home, though, the pain had faded to a persistent but manageable ache. It felt like the time Connor had really gone to town on his chest, biting and sucking his nipples harder than ever, and he'd been sore the next day. _Jesus, what's it going to feel like when he gets like that next time, once he can play with my tits again?_ Hank thought to himself. _He is going to wear me out._

Connor was eager to greet him at the door, excitedly trying to take Hank's outer layers off before he'd even kicked off his shoes. "Careful there, cowboy," Hank said, intercepting Connor's hands and giving them a squeeze as he leaned in for a kiss. "Let me take care of that, I really don't want you knocking into me by accident right now." 

He wandered into the bedroom to swap his jeans for sweatpants and threw his button-up shirt on top of the pile of clothes on the closet floor, and ambled back into the living room in just his pants and soft undershirt. He could feel Connor's eyes on him the moment he walked into the room, and his gaze tracked him as he plopped onto the couch and patted the cushion next to him. 

"C'mere, Connor," he said. "Want to take a better look?"

Connor didn't need to be asked twice. His hands twitched and Hank was about to remind him not to touch, but he just reached for the hem of Hank's shirt and paused, making eye contact in a silent request to take it off. Hank nodded and let Connor pull the shirt over his head; thankfully, he was careful to pull it away from his body so the fabric couldn't catch on his new piercings. When Hank's chest was revealed, Connor's eyes went wide. 

"Oh." 

"Oh?? Is that good or not?" 

"It's..." Connor reached out reverently, his fingers pausing a half-inch from Hank's nipple. "I preconstructed this several times, of course, but I wasn't prepared for just how good it would look to see the piercings in person." His fingers skimmed the softness of Hank's chest, staying away from his nipples but close enough to tease and take advantage of the sensitive ache that radiated from them. "Hank, they're gorgeous. _You're_ gorgeous."

Hank felt himself blush; it had gotten a bit easier to hear such things come out of Connor's mouth, but he didn't think he'd ever fully get used to being complimented so enthusiastically. "Thanks, Connor, but you gotta make sure you don't touch them or anything for at least three months. I need to be careful to let these things heal right and part of that process means no touching, okay?" 

Connor leaned forward, careful not to let his chest brush against Hank's, and said, "My saliva is sterile, Hank. Maybe I can help you keep your piercings clean?" He licked a hot stripe up Hank's neck before nipping gently at the shell of his ear. 

Hank moaned at the thought of Connor slowly licking and sucking at his nipples multiple times a day. They were sore, sure, but it was a deep, hot ache that almost felt pleasurable and the idea of Connor's attention on top of that was almost too much to bear. He knew Connor loved anything sexual having to do with his mouth; probably he'd manage to make himself come from having his tits in his mouth before too long. It was a tempting thought. 

"Jesus Christ," Hank sighed, as Connor continued to lavish attention on his neck. He reached down to grip his cock through his sweatpants but Connor batted his hand away and groped him through the soft material. "You—you can't get your saliva on there either, sweetheart, you have to be good the entire time." He moaned again, rocking his hips up against Connor's hand. "Once I'm healed, though, I promise you can do whatever you want to me." 

"Hmmmmm, I like the sound of that," Connor replied. He was still right next to Hank's ear, speaking quietly, and his voice made Hank shudder. "I'm sure that I'll have plenty of ideas stored up when the time comes." 

 

All things considered, Connor was admirably patient with the entire healing process. He was meticulous about keeping his hands (and mouth) to himself for the next three months. 

Even if it was, apparently, a challenge. 

"Haaaaank," Connor whined, "please put a shirt on." The piercings were two weeks old. 

"That's the first time I've heard you say that when you weren't trying to get me dressed up all fancy," Hank drawled, leaning over Connor as he brushed Sumo in the backyard. "It's ninety degrees, I'm hot, I'm in my own yard, I can walk around with my gut hanging out if I want to." 

"It's very distracting," Connor said, "to see your jewelry and not be able to touch it yet." He turned away from Hank, as if embarrassed; if he could have blushed, Hank was sure his face would be a lovely pink at the moment. 

Hank ruffled Connor's hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead, realizing at the last moment that his intended-to-be-sweet gesture was just dangling the objects of Connor's desire right in front of his face. "Yeah, sure, I can cover up for now. But I'm also gonna grab a cold one when I'm inside since I'll be sweating my ass off when I get back out here." 

The first shirt in Hank's drawer of ancient, worn-in shirts was an old favorite of his, a band shirt he'd gotten probably twenty-five years ago at least. It had been washed so many times that the dark blue color had faded to a slate gray, and the fabric was both delightfully soft and nearly see-through. It fit much tighter than it had when Hank had picked it up at a concert, of course, but it technically did fit and it was tight enough that the fabric didn't move around and brush against his chest, as some larger and coarser-textured shirts did. It was a natural choice for a shirt to wear during the healing process. 

What he hadn't counted on was Connor's reaction to it. When he stepped back into the yard, pressing a cold bottle of beer to his forehead, Connor had set aside the brush and was patting Sumo's belly, telling him what a good boy he was. He turned to look at Hank, and Hank could see the sudden yellow flash of his LED as he stared slack-jawed at him. 

"Connor? You ok?" Hank walked over and started to wave his hands in front of Connor's face, but Connor quickly pulled him down onto the grass next to him, pushing him on his back and straddling his hips. "Uh. Connor?" 

Connor's eyes were very wide, and he licked his lips as he stared at Hank's chest. "Hank, I asked you to put a shirt on because you were distracting me." 

"Yeah, and I did that. What's the problem?"

"The _problem_ ," Connor said, as he trailed his fingernails just under Hank's pecs, "is that you put on a shirt that's so tight and transparent I can still see everything." 

"It's comfortable!" Hank groused. "A tight shirt feels better, there's less friction." 

"Hmmm," Connor said. "I think I need to bring you inside." 

"Why's that? I thought we were gonna do some yardwork today."

"Because," Connor said, leaning down to murmur in Hank's ear, "I don't think our neighbors would approve if they could hear me fucking you, and I don't trust you to be quiet."

"Oh," Hank replied, a bit breathier than he intended. "This shirt's really doing a number on you, huh?" 

"Let me show you," Connor said, standing up and reaching out his hand to haul Hank up as well. He was very thorough in his demonstration; by the time he was done, it was getting dark and the yardwork had to be put off for another day.

After that, Hank made it a priority to wear his oldest, tightest shirts at home as often as possible. While Connor was careful not to touch Hank's nipples directly, after the first month he'd sometimes brush gently against them through his clothes, passing it off as accidental as he reached past Hank for something or leaned against his chest to give him a kiss. Hank was very used to Connor being handsy with him, but his frustration at not being able to touch his nipples yet seemed to be manifesting itself in the form of extra petting and groping elsewhere. Hank wasn't complaining, although he did once need to gently remind Connor of what was and wasn't an acceptable display of affection at work. 

It was strange, though, to feel like such an object of desire. Connor had never been shy about his attraction to Hank, at least not once they'd had their deeply awkward initial conversation about it, but it was as if the piercings had grabbed hold of Connor's arousal dial and turned _everything_ up a little. To be fair, though, they were having a similar effect on Hank.

The deep ache of the initial piercing faded quickly, but a gentler pain, just on the cusp of pleasure, remained for weeks. His nipples ached constantly, and it was hard not to be distracted by thoughts of Connor biting them roughly, sucking dark hickeys into his chest, or pinching and pulling at them. It didn't help that Connor loved to remind him of everything he wanted to do once the piercings were healed.

In the back of his mind, Hank was always aware of the piercings, and that awareness jolted to the forefront of his attention any time he accidentally touched them. On an unseasonably cold day in September, Hank took off his coat when he arrived at work and it brushed against his nipples; he couldn't quite stop himself from moaning at the sensation but turned it into a cough quickly enough that he didn't get anything more than a couple raised eyebrows from the people around him. He was a bit more careful after that.

 

Finally, about a week after the three-month mark, Hank knew it was time. His piercings seemed to be finished with their initial healing stage, and a few exploratory tweaks in the shower hadn't caused any extra pain or swelling a day later. Hank put on his most threadbare, see-through shirt once he got home from work, and sidled up behind Connor where he was peering into the fridge, planning what to make for dinner. He wrapped his arms around Connor's waist, pressing his chest against his back. 

"Hold off on dinner, why don't you," Hank murmured in Connor's ear. "Do you know what time it is?" 

"It's 7:13," Connor said absently, before turning around to nuzzle Hank's neck. "Are you not hungry?" 

"A little," Hank replied, "but there's something more important." He stepped back and felt a smug rush of satisfaction when Connor's eyes immediately snapped to his chest and focused on the shape of the jewelry through the thin shirt. He took Connor's hand and rubbed it gently against one nipple. "You ready to help me break these in?" 

Connor's eyes widened a bit, and he moaned softly. " _Oh_. Hank, I've been ready since you walked in the door with them." He kept rubbing gently, and moaned again as he saw Hank's nipples stiffen further through the thin shirt. 

"I like that they're always a little hard," he said, bringing his other hand to Hank's chest and rolling both nipples between his fingers. 

Even after brief exploration on his own, Hank wasn't prepared for how it would feel to have Connor touch him. "Fuck, that's good," he said roughly, and wrapped his arms around Connor's waist, holding him close. 

"You said I could do whatever I wanted, when the piercings were healed," Connor said, with a tiny tweak to one nipple. "Is that offer still on the table?" 

God, Connor was going to be the death of him. Hank didn't know if he'd ever get used to hearing this sweet, gorgeous android ask if he could have his way with him like it was something wonderful to look forward to. "Yeah, of course, but nothing too rough, all right? I'm healed enough for you to get your hands on me but don't go throwing heavy-duty nipple clamps on or anything like that just yet." 

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Is that something you'd like me to do?" 

Hank felt a prickle of arousal and embarrassment wash over him at the thought of it. He hadn't meant to use that as an example; it had just slipped out. "It was just a thought, I—" his voice trailed off. Connor didn't say anything, just kept watching him and slowly rubbing his nipples. "Yeah, I think so. If you wanted to." 

Connor grabbed the front of Hank's soft, thin t-shirt and pulled him towards the bedroom. "I can see the appeal," he said, as he closed the door behind them. He led Hank to the bed and stood in front of him once he sat on the edge, methodically stripping off his clothes as Hank watched. "Don't some sets have chains connecting the clamps?" 

Hank nodded, transfixed as always by the sight of Connor getting naked. 

"In that case," Connor said, gently pushing against Hank's chest until he reclined back on the mattress, still clothed, while Connor climbed above him. "I could hold that chain and pull on it while I have you fuck me. How does that sound?" 

"Jesus, Connor," Hank breathed, "you can't just _say_ things like that." He was hard already, aroused by Connor's hands and words and the _very_ clear picture he now had of fucking into Connor while he tugged at a set of nipple clamps and told him to go faster. 

Connor smiled and trailed a hand down Hank's chest and belly, stopping just short of where Hank's cock was straining against his underwear. "Why not, Hank? I love telling you the things I want to do to you." Hank shifted a bit beneath him, trying to rub up against his hand or thigh or _anything_. "For now, I want to see your piercings, and taste them, and find out how to make you feel good." 

"Just touch me," Hank panted, and Connor did. 

He removed Hank's shirt and sighed happily at the sight of his chest. Hank sometimes had the reflexive urge to cover up when he was naked around Connor, but it was slowly becoming easier to lie beneath him, arms folded behind his head or holding him close, instead of curling them around himself or trying to turn away. 

Hank suspected Connor meant to tease him, to draw things out before he paid full attention to his chest, but Connor's patience for teasing ran out almost instantly; before long, he was kissing and gently sucking at his nipples, LED flashing and turning as he catalogued whatever sorts of things he enjoyed measuring with his oral sensors. Hank thought he was prepared for the feeling of Connor's mouth on him but after a few months without it, plus the additional sensitivity the piercings gave him, it was like a bolt of lightning streaking down from his chest to his cock. His breath stuttered in his throat and he pressed his erection against Connor's thigh, looking for contact to ease the hot ache of his arousal.

Connor tugged the waistband of Hank's boxers down without turning his attention away from his chest—it was amazing how well he could multitask when the situation called for it—and wrapped one hand loosely around his cock, stroking gently. Here, apparently, he was happy to draw things out, even if he had no patience for it as far as the piercings were concerned. 

Soon he began stroking Hank in earnest as he explored Hank's chest, rubbing and sucking and biting his nipples to see what could elicit the strongest responses. Hank only had to remind him once not to bite as hard as he normally did, and Connor apologized by soothing the injured nipple with gentle kisses. 

Everything felt amazing, sure, but even beyond that it was nice, sometimes, to sit back and let Connor just go to town on him, enjoying every weird human part of him that he found so fascinating and enticing. He'd felt guilty and lazy at first, when Connor wanted to focus on Hank so much during sex, but eventually he realized that Connor found it just as pleasurable as he did. Sex worked the same for them in many ways, but some things turned Connor on in ways he couldn't quite understand. Sucking on Hank's fingers or analyzing his sweat really did it for Connor, and Hank was happy to let him.

Connor certainly seemed to be enjoying Hank's piercings more than he'd expected, and his expectations had been fairly high. "You could come just from this, couldn't you, Connor?" he asked. "Just from having your mouth on me?" Connor gave a muffled whine and sucked harder, speeding up the pace of his hand on Hank's cock. His kisses across Hank's chest grew sloppier and more desperate. 

Hank bucked up into Connor's hand, seeking more friction. " _Fuck_ , sweetheart, this feels so good." He caressed the back of Connor's neck, rubbing delicately where he knew a seam was located under his skin. "You wanna open up for me, so I can give you a little more?" 

There was a tiny hiss as the small access panel on his neck slid open. Just because he was pretty sure Connor _could_ get off from sucking on his tits alone didn't mean he didn't want to get his fingers inside him to help him along. 

Plus, hell, as strange as he'd found it the first couple times he got his hands inside Connor, once Hank got used to it and figured out just how good he could make Connor feel, he found himself looking forward to fondling those delicate wires almost as much as Connor did. There'd also been the deeply weird incident when he realized he was getting turned on while fixing his ancient car stereo, a few months ago; he associated gently rearranging and tugging on wires with sex, now, so he supposed it was only natural that he'd found himself half-hard while swapping out some audio cables. He hadn't told Connor about that, although maybe he should. Probably he'd just find it amusing.

Hank's fingers were thick and the panel was small, but he had enough room to dip two fingers into Connor's neck and press gently along the small wires that ran along either side of his spinal column. Connor twitched and moaned; his grip on Hank's cock became almost unbearably tight for a moment as he adjusted to the feeling of Hank inside him. 

"How's that?" he panted, and he took Connor's breathy sigh, accompanied by the gentle scrape of his teeth against his nipple, as a positive response. He stroked his fingers along the delicate wires, applying only gentle pressure at first, admiring the stuttering sounds he could draw from Connor's throat. 

Hank was trying to focus on Connor's pleasure, but it was hard when Connor was so determined to show his appreciation for his piercings. Hank suspected he'd be sore the next day, despite how healed he'd felt earlier, since Connor's enthusiasm had carried him a bit past the realm of gentle exploration. It was worth it, though; Hank had definitely forgotten how much better any attention to his chest felt with the sensitive piercings in place. 

Soon, Connor's attention became less focused; he was mouthing at Hank's chest, sighing and whining and giving all the signs that he was close to coming. He sucked messily at one nipple, and suddenly everything happened very quickly. 

Hank was so oversensitive by this point that the gentle suction made him shiver all over: he gasped, he bucked up into Connor's loosened grip, and the fingers inside Connor's neck squeezed just a _hair_ more firmly than normal. As he squeezed he felt half a click, as if a connector had pulled partway out of its socket.

Before he had a chance to ask if he'd messed something up, Connor made a strange wheezing sound that ended in a short, sharp _crack_ at the same moment Hank felt a wild tendril of pain and sensation snap into his nipple. He sucked in a quick breath in surprise, then grunted as he felt another snap and saw a tiny spark jump from Connor's mouth to his chest. It felt pretty fucking amazing, but since he'd never seen this happen before, he was too worried to think too much about how it felt.

"Shit, shit, did I break you?" he asked frantically. He started to withdraw his fingers from Connor's neck but Connor clamped his free hand to Hank's wrist and held him in place. 

"Please, Hank," Connor panted. "Stay inside me." 

There was no way Hank would refuse that invitation. He wasn't sure what he could do safely, given the possibility of a loose wire, but he didn't have long to wonder about it; after only a second more of gentle pressure along his spinal wiring, Connor was shaking and sobbing into Hank's chest as he rode out his climax. Hank carefully withdrew his fingers and petted Connor's hair as he went still for a moment, rebooting critical systems after the information overload of his orgasm had flooded them. 

Connor's deep moan and squirm against Hank's thigh signaled the completion of his reset. "You back online?" Hank asked, rubbing Connor's neck on either side of the still-open panel. "Did I mess something up inside you, to make you spark like that?"

"No, I'm fine," Connor sighed. "More than fine, actually, that was perfect. It's just a loose connection, easy to fix, but I apologize for shocking you." 

"You don't need to apologize," Hank said. "It felt good, actually. Intense. Maybe that's something we can try again." He leaned in as if to kiss Connor, then reconsidered. "I'm not sure I want you to shock my mouth, though." 

Connor disentangled himself from Hank's arms and reached up to fix his wiring. He lifted Hank's hand and tentatively touched his tongue to a fingertip; once he was satisfied there were no sparks, he sucked two fingers into his mouth suggestively and stroked them with his tongue. 

"I've neglected you," he said, staring appreciatively at the sight of Hank flushed and spread out on the bed below him. He gently pinched one nipple, now wildly oversensitive after so much attention, and smiled as Hank bit his lip and shifted his hips, searching for friction for his cock, still hard and aching.

"Funny, I don't feel neglected," Hank said. "Seems to me like you've been fussing over these—" he rubbed his knuckles over the other nipple "—all night, just like you've wanted to since I came home with them." 

"And it's been even better than I imagined," Connor purred, "but I'm greedy. I want you to come in my mouth."

"Fuck, yeah," Hank breathed. He stroked his cock languidly, maintaining eye contact with Connor as he settled himself between Hank's thighs. 

"Touch yourself while I do it," Connor said gently, but it felt more like a command than a request. He sucked the head of Hank's cock into his mouth, keeping his eyes on Hank's, watching his face flood with pleasure. "Tell me what it feels like." 

"Feels good," Hank said, as he pinched one nipple. "I'm so sensitive now, it's crazy. It's like when you bite me so hard I'm sore for a day or two, I—" he trailed off as Connor took him further into his mouth. "Jesus, I want, I want you to shock me again some time." He heard Connor hum questioningly as he sucked, not wanting to stop but wanting to hear more. "I don't know, it felt good, baby, like nothing else, and I want to try again. I'll try anything for you, you know that?" 

Hank tugged his nipple and felt a jolt nearly as intense as the shock had been. Pleasure, hot and wild, coursed through him, and as he looked down he could see Connor watching him as he took his cock impossibly deep in his mouth with no fear of choking. "Fuck, Connor," he breathed, "you're so good to me, sweetheart." 

Connor moaned around his cock, and that did it; Hank shook and cursed and came as Connor eased him through it, working him gently until Hank hissed from oversensitivity. "C'mere," he said, and urged Connor up to curl up beside him. 

After a few moments of silent cuddling, during which Hank was able to catch his breath and feel less like his soul had been sucked out of his body, he asked, "So. Did they live up to what you imagined?" 

"Seeing you with piercings and observing your reactions to various stimuli affected me more than I had initially expected, so I can safely say they exceeded my expectations." 

"I aim to please," Hank said, and kissed him on the forehead.

 

Eventually, they made their way back into the kitchen for a late dinner. Hank threw together an omelette and some toast which he ate while Connor watched him and pretended he wasn't stroking Hank's calf with his bare foot. They spent the rest of the evening in a contented silence; they tangled their legs together as they sat against either side of the couch and read, but the only sound was the soft snuffling of Sumo looking for omelette scraps and the deep hum of the heater kicking on. Hank loved talking with Connor, but he also enjoyed nights like these where they shared each others' space quietly, creating intimacy without words. 

Sometimes it felt easier to talk when they were in bed; being tired in the dark did something to Hank that made him open his mouth when he was hesitant during the day.

"Thank you for asking me to do this," Hank said, settling his arm around Connor and pulling him close. "I wouldn't have done it on my own." 

"I'm glad you're happy with the results," Connor said, and while Hank couldn't see his face he could picture the self-satisfied grin he was certain was there. "I certainly am." He traced abstract patterns on Hank's chest for a minute, then said "I _do_ have another suggestion though...have you ever considered a Prince Albert?" 

Hank groaned, "Let a man rest, Connor! I just healed one set of piercings, let me enjoy them before you come up with too many ideas." 

"Of course, Hank. I don't want to push you into anything." 

There were a few minutes of silence. Hank's breathing had slowed and evened out, and he felt himself on the precipice of sleep when he knew he had to say something else. 

"I'd do it for you, if you wanted." 

_I'd do anything_ , he didn't say, but he hoped Connor understood.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter at @robofingering if you'd like to yell about Hank getting his nipples fucked with <3


End file.
